She showered and dressed in record time, and walked into the living room just before ten.
Rowan’s head popped up over the collection of laptops on the dining table. “Hi.”
“Good morning,” she said. “Is Leland, or anyone else, up? I can’t believe I slept so late.”
Rowan’s eyes flicked to the kitchen. Where she finally noticed Knox pouring himself some coffee.
“Oh, good morning, Knox.”
He smiled and lifted his mug. “Want some? This place has amazing coffee. It’s fresh ground. I used the grinder in our room across the hall so I wouldn’t wake you.”
“Thank you. Yes, I’d love some. Wait, you have a coffee grinder in your hotel room?”
His smile grew. “Yes, indeed. This hotel has pretty much everything you could want. I met a wonderful waitress downstairs about three o’clock this morning—”
“At three a.m.?”
“Yeah. We took shifts during the night watching the cameras. About three, Rowan said he needed more extension cords.” He set down his mug and added some cream. “I wanted to get my bearings around here, so I went downstairs instead of calling. The concierge can get you anything. Anyway, this awesome waitress offered me sixteen different kinds of coffee beans. And a grinder for my room. Because I told her I like making my own coffee, first thing in the morning.”
His caffeine-fueled explanation suggested he was on his third or fourth cup already.
“I see.” She accepted a steaming mug of Knox’s freshly made coffee. It smelled divine. “Thank you.”
She glanced into the living room. Rowan sat alone, staring at computer screens. “Where are Leland and Jason?”
“Talking to Drakos. He’ll see things their way. Trust me. Those two have dealt with more obstinate men than Alec Drakos.” His expression softened. “Jason says you had no idea Leland was an agent.”
“That’s right,” she said, pretending that fact didn’t twist her in knots.
She opened the refrigerator. Not because she was hungry. She just didn’t want to face Knox while he asked uncomfortable questions.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I’m sure it was a shock. But he’s good at what he does. A legend, really. I think he gave you a different story to protect you. He didn’t want you worrying about him, you know?”
Oh, could he please just stop talking? Her frustration with Leland was none of Knox’s business. She was still staring into the refrigerator. “I see you also acquired eight flavors of creamer.”
“Yeah, that waitress is amazing.”
She chose a hazelnut creamer. “I think Jason and I met her yesterday.” When she closed the refrigerator door, Knox was giving her a strange look. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Not a thing.” He took a sip of coffee. “Jason said you were brave yesterday.”
She poured a generous helping of creamer in her mug. “I think he’s misremembering.”
“I don’t think so. He says you’re a personal assistant?”
She gave as much a nod as possible while sipping hot coffee.
“I don’t know exactly what a personal assistant does, but I’ll bet you don’t get shot at much.”
She loved her job. And it undoubtedly consisted of more than he was assuming. But she didn’t feel like explaining the details of her responsibilities to him. “No. I don’t get shot at much.”
“And yet,” he leaned against the kitchen counter and smiled at her over his coffee mug, “you didn’t fall apart. A lot of civilians would go completely catatonic after being attackedonce, let alone three times in one day.”
“I’m not sure that’s as impressive as you make it sound.”
“Well, I’m impressed.” He smiled. “And so is Jason.”
If he insisted on talking about Jason, maybe she could learn a little more about the man who saved her life more than once in the past twenty-four hours. “So, how long have you and Jason been doing . . . this kind of thing for WhiteRock?”
